993
by spidersrorg
Summary: Tsukiyama was talking. Kaneki couldn't hear a word he said.


Six-hundred fifty-seven.

Tsukiyama was talking to him. Prattling on, singing him praises. Something.

Kaneki couldn't hear a word he said.

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept. He couldn't focus. His gaze lingered on a blank wall as he tuned out Tsukiyama, his coffee untouched. He couldn't focus. Not on anything but six-hundred eight, six-hundred one, five-hundred ninety-four...

He couldn't hear his own muttering, let alone whatever the Gourmet was saying. At their little table Tsukiyama was sitting beside him on his right. Kaneki was certain he was deaf in that ear. It hadn't healed right. Nothing came through it but the occasional static- wrappers crinkling- something crawling-

He threw his hands onto the table.

"Five-hundred thirty-one."

Tsukiyama stopped talking. Kaneki looked to him.

Oh. That had been loud.

He'd knocked his coffee off the table. The carpet was already pock-marked with stains, it didn't matter. Tsukiyama pulled out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed the small puddle that spilled onto the table.

"Kaneki-kun, you really must stop that muttering. You'd frighten little Hinami if she were to hear you."

"I know. Shut up. Keep talking."

Tsukiyama didn't question his contradictory orders and went with the option he preferred. The man really did love the sound of his own voice.

Kaneki turned and sat facing Tsukiyama, the blank wall having lost its appeal. He didn't know how to read lips, but he watched Tsukiyama's mouth form words. He still didn't process anything that had been said. Whatever Tsukiyama had to say couldn't be important anyway.

Four-hundred seventy-five, four-hundred sixty-eight, four-hundred sixty-one...

Tsukiyama was talking with his hands now, gesticulating in a way that had nothing to do with whatever he was saying. Dramatics. What was he talking about?

Kaneki turned his gaze from Tsukiyama's lips to his own hands. He stared. There were fingers there. Ten of them now. He cracked his knuckles. His hands started shaking. He couldn't stop looking at them. Four-hundred thirty-three.

His nails were growing in long and black. That wasn't right. They weren't growing in right. Only corpses had any business having black fingernails. But he was alive. Wasn't he?

He brought a finger to his mouth and bit a crescent off of a single blackened nail. He spat it out. He began to nibble at the others.

"...don't you think, Kaneki-kun?"

Kaneki looked back up to Tsukiyama, who was awaiting an answer for the question Kaneki hadn't even heard.

Kaneki gave him a slight nod in response. He didn't care enough to figure out what the question had been.

"Magnifique! Then, Kaneki-kun, shouldn't we..."

Kaneki tuned out the rest and watched Tsukiyama's mouth move. He ran out of nails to bite on one hand and moved to the next. Three-hundred eighty-four.

Tsukiyama's mouth stopped and drew into a taut line. Kaneki looked up to meet his eyes, but Tsukiyama put on a smile as he did.

"It's only polite to share, Kaneki-kun."

Tsukiyama reached for his hand, and caught it as Kaneki tried to draw it away. His very bloody hand. With three fingers.

Kaneki moved his jaw and felt the bones crunch beneath his teeth and registered the taste of blood. Oh. He hadn't noticed he had done that. He swallowed. They would grow back.

Tsukiyama held his smile as long as he held Kaneki's hand, waiting for some response from Kaneki. They stared at one another.

Kaneki wrapped his good hand around Tsukiyama's wrist and bent it back until it made a snap, prying away his bloody mess of fingers and eliciting a noise of pain from the Gourmet.

"Don't touch me," he grumbled.

Tsukiyama nodded, silent, trying to cover up his scared expression with one of good humor.

Kaneki watched him, not letting go of the wrist in his grip. Three-hundred. He pulled Tsukiyama's hand to his mouth and bit down. Tsukiyama let out a small sound that could have been a gasp and pulled his limp hand from Kaneki.

He chewed the fingers and looked Tsukiyama dead in the eyes, blank faced.

Tsukiyama watched him with a strained expression. He was trying to prevent his eyes from turning. He failed, and the red and black watched Kaneki. At least he tried to show some self control. Kaneki's eye had turned as well, but from under his eyepatch Tsukiyama wouldn't see. Good.

But the Gourmet was smiling again soon enough. As soon as Kaneki had swallowed the digits, Tsukiyama reached out and took both of Kaneki's hands into his own. He laced his remaining fingers with those of Kaneki's mangled hand.

"Tiens, Kaneki-kun, now we match!"

Two-hundred sixty five.

Kaneki stared at their hands. Tsukiyama's smile grew and he opened his mouth to say something inane. How romantic, probably.

Kaneki pulled his three fingers from Tsukiyama's and gripped the other man's jaw with a bruising force, his jagged, chewed nails digging into the Gourmet's skin.

"Don't touch me."

Never mind that his good hand was still entwined with Tsukiyama's. And never mind that he was leaning in towards Tsukiyama. And then pressing their mouths together.

Kaneki pulled away and ignored Tsukiyama's rapturous exclamations. And ignored how the Gourmet swiped a thumb across his jaw and sampled the blood Kaneki's hand had smeared on his face.

Kaneki sighed. He laid his head onto the table, closing his eyes. The static in his ear was gone for a minute. He'd lost count. Maybe he could sleep.

He loosened the death grip he had on Tsukiyama's hand and gave it a light squeeze.

Maybe.

Nine-hundred ninety-three.


End file.
